


"little brother"

by noahlikeswaffles



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 1980s, Alpha Greg Lestrade, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Family Drama, M/M, Maternal Instinct, Mpreg, Omega Mycroft Holmes, Teen Mycroft, Teen Pregnancy, Young Mycroft Holmes/Young Greg Lestrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28778217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahlikeswaffles/pseuds/noahlikeswaffles
Summary: Two pink lines. Two pink lines and his whole world came crashing down.Or in other words, sixteen year old Mycroft is pregnant, and he has absolutely no idea how to tell anyone.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 13
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

It isn't going to be positive, he thought, staring at the drugstore test in his hand. No way. One heat wasn't enough. They'd only even done it the once.

He sucked in a breath. He knew the truth deep down inside him. Knew that him and Gregory had done this, that the bite wasn't going to go away, knew that the stomach ache wasn't food poisoning. 

_"Oh my God, I am- so sorry, My, I'm so sorry,"_ He had whispered, once their intertwined bodies had separated, Mycroft's fever broken. The blood had been minimal, so Mycroft had shrugged it off. It wouldn't stick, they couldn't have _bonded_. It didn't happen that fast, it couldn't. Sixteen years of rule-following purity couldn't be shred in a single night? 

_Slut._

Mycroft swallowed thickly and glanced down at the results. 

Two lines. Two lines and his world was over. Completely over. He fell forward, catching himself on the wall, his breaths heaving. 

Christ. 

_Christ_. 

He could barely stop himself from crashing, falling backwards to the floor, stomach sunk. Oh God. Oh God. What was Mummy going to say? What was he going to do? He wasn't- He was a good kid, he- he was going to attend University, go into government, possibly rule the world. Make his Father proud. Prove that omegas could be _something_. 

Ironic, actually, that this should be his downfall. 

_Whore._

He pulled open his tightly buttoned collar, throwing his head between his bent knees, suddenly feeling quite sick, the air stuffy and his throat full of bile. 

And then he touched his stomach and it hit him. Really hit him.

He knew enough to know that it wasn't a thing yet, not really, just a little clump of cells. He rubbed across his waistcoat, his heart thumping in his ears, a completely unbidden image floating through his head. Greg holding him and his baby close, his dark and warm cinnamon scent surrounding them, protecting them. Mycroft held his arms to his chest, he could _feel_ it, feel the soft feathery head of his baby, his Alpha kissing the little tyke's nose and scenting it, protecting it. A _family_. 

Fat tears filled his eyes. 

No time to think about that. He needed to...do something...tell someone...He pressed his palms to his temples, his head splitting. 

"Mykie are you in there?" Mummy shouted, knocking on the door. 

"Yes I just need a few minutes,"

"Are you feeling alright?"

" _Yes, mother,_ I'm fine stop babying me!" He snapped, hissing at her through the door, swinging his head round to glare at it as she walked away. He instantly regretted this, his whole body heavy with nausea, retching and flipping the toilet seat up in a hurry as he vomited. 

What was he going to do?


	2. Chapter 2

It was a grueling two weeks before he could work up the courage to face _it_. He'd avoided him skillfully for his parents and Greg for last fortnight, dodging quickly out of school so as to not see Gregory on his motorcycle, chatting with his mates. Mummy had intercepted a few calls to the house, and each time Mycroft had told her to tell him he was out, or sick, or both, staying locked up in his room for hours. 

Mummy was far too pleased, thinking that perhaps Mykie's punk rock phase had come to an end, and she wouldn't have to politely smile at that hoodlum that lurked outside on his bike. 

Mycroft didn't correct her. 

Nobody seemed to notice when he started wearing shirt collars tightly closed, never exposing an inch of skin, even though it was only early autumn, his cut up band t-shirts left in the bottom of the drawer. He felt, so much grown-up suddenly, like a switch had flipped. 

Nobody seemed to notice that he vomited every morning, regardless of what he ate or didn't eat. It was becoming a lot more 'didn't eat' as his nerves grew. Hours of dry heaving, his room still dark, hints of sunlight barely peeking in the curtains, casting dark shadows across his _Clash_ and _Joy Divison_ posters. 

Telling Gregory was out of the question. 

He swallowed thickly and rubbed at this tummy. Would he demand Mycroft get rid of it? Mycroft's lip wobbled at the thought, glancing down at... _it_.

Maybe that would be the right choice. How could he do this to Gregory, ruin his life like this? Gregory didn't want kids, obviously, he didn't want a mate. Greg hadn't even finished his GCSEs, and his band had a real chance of getting a record deal. Mycroft couldn't ask him to settle down now.

He was on his own, he decided, no use fantasizing about it. 

The bond-severance surgery would have to wait until the baby was born. Or gotten rid of. A baby without an Alpha would die instantly. Oh God, what had he done? 

This was all Mycroft's fault. He sobbed, curling up into a ball on the floor, tear tracks hot on his cheeks.

He needed to tell _someone_. Someone who would know what to do. 

* * *

The air was crisp as he walked down the quiet street, the London suburbs calm and comfortingly bleak. He kicked pebbles under his feet, his hands tucked into his coat, school bag on his hip. He winced when he heard a motorcycle rumbling behind him, itching at the back of his neck and keeping his eyes down. 

"Myc?!" Greg shouted, and the omega flinched, his heart racing, and turned slightly to take him in. He snapped out his kickstand and ran closer. Beautiful as ever, smelling like leather and cinnamon and cigarettes. He didn't look too well on closer inspection, skin pale and stubble grown, bags beneath his glowing chocolate eyes. "Where have you been, darling?" 

"Nowhere," Mycroft mumbled, avoiding his gaze. 

"We need to talk, My! We- we- that is, I mean- I'm so sorry about what happened," Greg grasped him by his shoulders and Mycroft froze under his gaze. 

"It's fine. My fault," He mumbled and Greg's face fell, paling even more so and it hurt the omega to see him so upset. 

"It was my fault, My, I should have controlled myself " Greg gulped, looking guilty and sad, leaning on his motorcycle, inhaling deep. Mycroft wanted to throw up again suddenly, seeing his Alpha put the pieces together right there. 

"Oh my God, it stuck didn't it? The bond." He said, stepping closer, reaching for Mycroft's neck before the omega flinched back. 

"I can get rid of it, please, just don't do this to me," 

"What? Mycroft, if you're my _mate_ shouldn't I-" Greg paused, "Are you _pregnant,_ Mycroft?" 

Silence. 

"Oh my God, oh my god," Greg stumbled, blinking. Mycroft's entire body felt heavy, and he looked down at his feet.

"There's nothing that I need from you," Mycroft said coldly, teeth grit and hands balled up into fists. "We won't ask you for anything."

The air was still, save for a few stray birds cawing at each-other. 

"We?" Greg whispered, incredulous, looking at Mycroft's flat stomach. "You're keeping it, aren't you?" Greg said with such a childish hope in his eyes that Mycroft's heart soared with adoration. His body yearned to turn his neck up and let Greg have him in that moment. 

"I think I am. I'm not sure."

"S'your choice, if you want to do that or not." Greg said awkwardly, itching at his neck, and Mycroft blinked. "We should get married, then, shouldn't we?"

Mycroft snorted. What did he just say?

"I know you're still in school, Myc and I know you want to big things and I won't stop you at all. I promise, I, I just want to take care of you, you're my omega, My, it's kind of my job,"

Fear. Cold and foggy and shattering fear suddenly washed through Mycroft, the omega shivering. His dreams weren't an option anymore were they? Why was Greg saying this rubbish? 

_Trick. It must be a trick. He's just trying to get me to submit to him, then he'll lock me in his house and make me do this chores and and and-_

"My?" Greg said gently, eyes big and wide. 

"No!" Mycroft shouted, pushing him off, "I don't- no thank you! I shouldn't have told you in the first place. Just forget it. I won't tell anyone it's yours, you won't have to change anything. Can't you just keep being a stupid high school drop out and leave. me. alone?!"

Mycroft gasped, realizing what he had said. Greg looked angry. Really angry. His eyes were on fire and he growled, low and dark and it almost sent Mycroft to his knees. 

"Greg I'm sorry I-"

"No. No, you said enough, Mycroft." The younger boy flinched at his full name, looking up with wavering composure, his lip wobbling and his eyes filled with fat tears. Greg slid his leg over his seat, looking at Mycroft with something that was pure hurt. 

"Greg, wait, I'm sorry!"

He'd already rode off. 

Mycroft sucked in a breath and wiped at his tears with the palms of his hands. This was what he wanted. It really was, he told himself. I'm better off on my own. Nobody can hurt me ever again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh no!


	3. Chapter 3

Mycroft lay against the hardwood floor, his head titled to the floor and his ear pressed to hear the shouting in the kitchen, his youthful skin wrinkled into a fearful mess. His tears were dry and his eyes itched, but he lay like a rock. He couldn't move an inch. 

"...After all we did for him, all the good christian principles we taught him, this? What a shameful slut, how dare he do this to us? Do you know what my friends will say? What everyone will say? About us? About me?!" His Mother screamed.

"I'm gonna find that Alpha and kill him. I will kill him. How dare he tarnsih our son like this? I should sue him for damages. I'll sue his whole family. And I'll send them the bastard thing to look after in the post!" His Father shouted, and Mycroft flinched as his fist hit the wall. His whole world shook around him. 

"What will we do, Siger, we'll be the laughing stock of the county. How will we take him in public?"

"We could get rid of it," Father said and Mycroft's heart stopped.

"Siger!"

"There are plenty of doctors who'd do it under the table, no one has to know."

Mummy was quiet. 

Mycroft gasped, holding his hand over his mouth and sobbing. No! He wouldn't let them do this, he wouldn't! He stumbled upwards, ears full of cotton and his focus hazy. He found his school bag and stuffed a few extra shirts, a pair of trousers and pants in it. He grabbed his cassette player and a very special tape off his nightstand, looking around his room and realizing there wasn't much her for him anyway. He slung his bag over his shoulder and went to the window. He had to push hard to open it, and when it did creak open, he realized that he was on the second floor, with no way down. He sucked in a breath, prayed to a god he didn't believe in and hopped down, attempting to roll into it, instead hitting the ground flat on his back. He groaned, looking up at the cloudless night sky. 

There was only one place left to go, really. 


End file.
